


Listen

by Gala_and_Elle, theletterelle



Series: Slantverse [18]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, The Academy Is...
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - High School, Dom/sub, M/M, Service, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gala_and_Elle/pseuds/Gala_and_Elle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theletterelle/pseuds/theletterelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sisky learns that when Pete gives an order, he expects it to be followed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Listen

When Sisky wakes up, he can tell it’s going to be a bad day. His head feels stuffed full of snot, and he’s dizzy when he gets out of bed. 7 AM is a hell of a time to wake up for school, but he’s used to it.

He showers, hoping that will clear up his sinuses, but it doesn’t, though it does make him feel a little better. He skips breakfast, because he’s just not hungry today, and heads to the garage to grab his bike.

The ride over wears him out, and when Sisky lets himself into the house he goes to the bathroom and blows his nose before going to Pete’s room. It lets him breathe, but not for long.

“Pete. Hey. Time to wake up.” He lays a hand on Pete’s shoulder and shakes him gently. Pete rolls over. Sisky tries again. “Come on. We have to leave in fifteen minutes.”

Pete groans. “Too fucking early. Gimme ten.”

Sisky’s been told repeatedly to ignore whatever Pete says first thing in the morning, so he sighs and shakes Pete one more time. “I’ll drive; you can sleep in the car. But you have to brush your teeth and get dressed.” He knows Pete won’t move for at least another five minutes, so he finds him some clean underwear and a shirt he hasn’t worn more than twice. Sisky really needs to do laundry. He’ll get on that tonight.

He has to stop to cough and blow his nose twice before Pete rolls out of bed. Sisky hands him his clothes and sniffs, trying to get at least one side of his nose clear.

“I hate everything,” grumbles Pete. Sisky nods. He’s heard this a thousand times. He coughs again.

Pete’s hardly at his best first thing in the morning, but he rubs his eyes, squints, and looks at him. “Dude, you sound like shit.”

Sisky coughs again. “Nah, I’ll be okay. Can I take some of your tissues?”

“Sure,” says Pete, and pulls his shirt on. Sisky grabs a handful and starts blowing. His nose sounds like a foghorn, but he’s still unable to clear his head. Dammit. He turns around to find Pete staring at him.

“You’re sick,” says Pete accusingly.

“I’m sorry,” says Sisky. “It’s not really that bad. I’ll be fine.”

Pete shakes his head. “No, dude. You need to be in bed, drinking juice or Gatorade or some shit like that.”

“No I don’t.” Sisky swipes at his nose. “I’m okay.”

Pete checks his phone. “There’s enough time for me to get you home and still get to class. Come on, let’s go.”

“Pete, cut it out, I said I’ll be fine.” Going home means a day without Pete. A day when Pete will be on his own, with no one to carry his bag or stand in line at the caf for him or remind him of his schedule. Sisky isn’t going to let that happen.

But Pete crosses his arms and gets that look. Sisky hasn’t seen the look in a long time. Worried, he takes a step back-- _no, don’t say it don’t say it._ Pete speaks.

I’m very disappointed in you, Adam.”

Sisky bursts into tears.

He wouldn’t normally cry, even when he’s failed. But he really does feel like hell, and he’s only gotten that look twice in the whole time he’s been serving Pete, and he tried so _hard_ today, he really did, and he just wants to do a good job.

Pete doesn’t touch his hair or take his hand or do anything that would let Sisky know he’s not angry. “I don’t like it when you don’t listen; you know that,” says Pete. “And I expect you to take care of yourself. If you don’t, how can you take care of anyone else?”

Sisky cries, mopping at his nose. “I know.” He needs to listen to Pete. If he can serve Pete best by going home and sleeping, he needs to do that. “I’b sorry,” he says, and blows his nose again.

“I’m going to take you home, you’re going to tell your mom that you’re sick and need to stay in bed, and she’ll call the school for you. I’ll call you after school to find out how you’re doing, and I want to hear the truth.”

“Okay,” says Sisky. He follows Pete meekly to the car and gets in the back, so he won’t infect Pete with his germs. Germs. He should have thought of that before he even came over. Pete drives him home, Sisky blowing his nose and wiping his eyes the whole way. He’s still sniffling when he gets out. “I’m sorry,” he says again.

“Just make sure you get to bed,” says Pete, and backs out of the driveway. Sisky coughs and wipes away fresh tears. He’s failed so bad. Pete’s probably not mad, he never gets mad, just gives Sisky the look. Sisky wishes Pete would flog him. It would feel better than guilt.

Mom is making Mother’s and Dad’s lunches when Sisky comes in. “Hey, what’s wrong?” she asks, coming around the table. “You look terrible. Are you sick?”

Sisky nods and blows his nose again. “Pete said I have to go to bed. Can you call school for me?”

“Aw, baby.” Mom feels his forehead. “Yeah, you’re a little warm. Go up to bed while I finish here, and I’ll bring you some orange juice and toast.”

“I don’t want to eat,” mumbles Sisky, but not loud enough for her to hear. He’s let enough people down for one day. He goes to his room, changes from jeans into sweats, and slides under the covers. His head hurts.

When Mom comes up, he’s mostly stopped crying. She makes him sit up, gives him a plate and a glass of juice, then sits at the foot of his bed. “What’s wrong, Adam?”

“I’m sick.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “Beside that.”

Sisky wasn’t going to say anything, he’s too ashamed, but with Mom looking at him in a way so unlike Pete’s look, he crumbles. Tears trickle down his face. “Pete isn’t happy I went over to his house and tried to go to school when I’m sick. I could have made him sick too. I told him I was sorry, but he s-said he’s very dis--” His voice breaks. “Disappointed in me.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Mom squeezes his foot through the blanket. “It’s okay. Don’t worry, he’ll get over it, and things will come back to normal. You listened when he told you to come home, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Eventually. I tried to argue with him, though. He hates that. I just didn’t want him going to school without me.”

“I know you didn’t, honey. You were just trying to do the right thing, huh?”

Sisky nods and blows his nose again. Mom scoots up and hugs him. “Sweetie. Nobody’s perfect. No one can do a hundred percent every time. Everyone knows that, including Pete. Hey, even I mess up sometimes--” she smiles-- “but we work it out and keep going. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“I hate failing,” Sisky mutters. “It sucks.”

Mom’s mouth twists. “I remember when you were little,” she says, “and you’d spilled your grape juice on the couch. You were only four, but you ran to the kitchen to get a rag and clean it up. You asked me for some Windex-- every cleaning product was Windex to you back then-- and spent half an hour soaking the stain out so we wouldn’t be upset. You always took it so hard. I wish things could be easier for you, babe.”

Sisky takes a drink of his orange juice so he won’t cry again. “He’s going to call after school. I’ll stay in bed all day like he said; maybe then he’ll forgive me.”

Mom gets up, bends over to kiss his forehead. “We always forgive the people we love. Remember that. Now finish your juice and go to sleep. Things will be better when you wake up.”


End file.
